June 3, 2008

MARINE AND WIFE KILLED IN A PLANE CRASH

BY J Jonah Jameson

A tragedy occurred last night, as a young marine and his wife crashed into dockland. Alex Summers, 37, and his wife Madelyn Pryor, 32, were taking a flight with their son, Scott Summers, 8, when strong winds, heavy storms appear to have caused their pilot to lose control, sending them spiraling into a nearby pier. Their bodies, and that of the pilot, have yet to be recovered. Many eye witnesses have claimed sightings of strange lights engulfing the plane just before the pilot lost control, but there are no sources willing to be named. They leave behind a son, Scott Summers, who was sent out of the plane moments before it crashed.

The world had gone silent.

Everything seemed like it was moving in slow motion. Scott Summers gazed upon the billowing fire that towered other the pier, at the firefighters marching straight into the blaze. All around him, people raced about, some covered in blankets. Some were crying, eyes a deep, hazy red.

Had they lost someone too, Scott wondered.

Had their parents' lives been taken by the flames?

Scott felt the tears streak down his face, wiped them away, and huddled his blanket closer.

He closed his eyes, and he could see his mother, strapping a parachute onto his back, and opening it as she pushed him out of the plane.

"I love you." She said.

It was supposed to be a nice day out. Dad had only been back for a few weeks, taking a leave from the marines. Mommy said they would all go out for a nice flight to celebrate.

Scott used to love flying. His dad used to love taking him up, back when they lived in New York. They would fly around the mansion his father worked at, all around the seemingly endless grounds.

And now his father would never leave the ground again.

Scott's eyes began to well up again. He sniffed heavily, a weight forming in his chest.

Next to him, a lady emptied a bottle of water on her face.

Scott gawked at the bemusing display, before looking around, to see if anyone else could see what he saw.

Everybody had stopped moving.

The firemen stood still, their heroic poses now looking more comedic, hoses still pumping water into the inferno. The victims stood like statues, shock fading from their absent eyes, but lingering like on their faces like an it was painted on. The first aid workers crouched on the ground, holding the dead or dying in vice like grips, the ones on stretchers, tipping onto the ground.

And in the middle of it all, Scott squinted, was a man in a wheelchair, fingers placed firmly on his hairless temple, eyes a steely blue. Behind him stood a man, or what Scott thought was a man: it was covered head to toe in blue fur. It towered over the old man. The beast wheeled the man forward. From a distance, Scott would have guessed he was a young man, but as he got closer, he showed small signs of aging: his skin had begun to wrinkle, but he wore it with dignity. The old man wore a sad smile, while the beast had a solemn expression. They seemed vaguely familiar.

They drew up in front of Scott, and the old man placed a hand on Scott's knee.

"Hello Scott. Do you remember me?"

He spoke without moving his lips. Scott felt a rush of pure warmth flow through him. A feeling of safety coursed through his veins, coating him, numbing him.

"I was a friend of your father. I was his teacher."

"I'm here to help."

May 8th, 2016

They say his heart had given out. When they found him, the invincible Iron Man, lying half dead in the snow, they say his heart had given out. That wasn't his only injury, of course: his lungs had collapsed, he had multiple concussions and his arm had a fracture. But his heart, that one stayed with him. They said it was the angina. But he knew better. It was that video. The betrayal.

"He's my friend."

The slick slice of the shield cutting through his armor, straight into his chest.

They found him holding the shield. He was gripping it like a security blanket. He wouldn't let it go, not even when he was unconscious.

He was going to melt that fucking shield.

The door chimed open.

"I do hope I'm not interrupting anything."

Tony looked up from his hospital bed.

Warren Ellis, President of the United States, stood at the foot of his bed.

"We need to talk."

Tony had gone insane. That was the official verdict. The morphine and hospital smell were causing delusions.

The President sat on the side of Tony's bed.

"Well what a lovely surprise," Tony drawled, a gentle southern accent in his voice.

"Now is not the time to bullshit me, Stark. After the stunt the captain pulled in Germany yesterday, the public have been going wild. I have half the world screaming at me to answer questions, pay damages, or just have a clue what in the hell is going on. They world wants answers, Stark, but I want them first. What happened?!"

Tony blinked, taken aback by the normally quite mild president's burst of anger. He had never thought much of Ellis, he always seemed a pathetic figure, ever since he saved him from AIM. He had won an election on pro superhero sentiment, and coasted on that ever since. He was a decent president, and seemed a fairly nice guy, at least from afar. He had won points for his handling of the Latverian Crisis, and his swift intervention in Al-Mazahmiya, but during his administration, Superheroes had become the new Global Powers. He had been forced to watch, helpless, through crisis after crises, as the Avengers stomped all over the Idea of Sovereignty, or America's foreign policy, and then been forced to help cough up for the bill. The Accords were meant to be his way of taking back control.

And now that plan had blown up in his face.

"I assume you're referring to the Avengers' minor disagreement in Germany?"

The President clenched his fists, before sigh, his rage seemingly to bubble away.

"Yes, Mr Stark. That would be what I was referring to."

"Well, it is as reported. The Avengers disagreed on the Accords, which lead to a rift on how to deal with Bucky Barnes, after he was, unknown to any of us, framed by Zemo, a former member of Sokovian Intelligence forces. He sought to destroy the Avengers for our part in the Ultron incident and the Battle of Sokovia."

The President furrowed his brow.

"This is…. distressing, to say the least. What exactly happened after the bombing?"

Tony rolled his eyes.

"Haven't you watched the news? I'm sure CNN has a graphic about it by now."

"I want to hear it straight from the pig's mouth."

Tony raised his hand and placed it over his heart it had stopped, Steve Rogers had killed him, and made a mock sigh.

"As you can see, Mr President, I am an invalid. However, if you schedule a meeting, I'm sure I can could see you...in about six months?

"Just get on with it, Mr Stark."

"After the bombing, the Captain went rogue in order to capture Sergeant Barnes. They ended up in an Altercation with the German Strike Force, which resulted in six dead officers, and 10 injured. When Sargent Barnes was brought in for Psychological evaluation. Unknown to us, Zemo had replaced the psychologist, and activated Sargent Barnes mental programming, causing to kill at least eight men, before the Captain liberated him, with the help of one Sam Wilson. I created a new squad of Avengers consisting of myself, War Machine, Vision, King T'Challa, Spider-Man and Black Widow in order to bring them into custody. The Captain had formed his own squad, in an attempt to take down Zemo, and at the airport, we had a clash."

"That's a relatively nice word for an event that destroyed a major German transport hub," the President snorted.

"Well, compared to the how our fights normally go, it wasn't that big a deal," Tony shot back. "Now, if I could continue?"

The President nodded.

"Thank you. Anyway, the Captain and Seargent Barnes escaped and headed to Siberia, where Zemo was located. Shortly afterwards, I followed on. We defeated Zemo with the help of King T'Challa, but in the chaos, they escaped again. My injuries prevented me from following them."

The President's eyes took on a strange zeal.

"How exactly were you injured, Mr Stark?"

"Zemo released five hydra super soldiers."

"The doctors told me that the cuts in your lungs were consistent with other injuries inflicted by Captain America's shield. Would you like to tell me the truth now?"

Tony gulped, which, with the state his body was in, was no mean feat.

"The Captain attacked me during his escape."

The President groaned, and put his head in his hands.

"We are fucked."

"Mr President." Tony spoke with mock indignation. "Language."

"Now is not the time for joking, Mr Stark. There is now a wanted international terrorist running around in the colours of the American flag, violating nations' sovereignty and now attacking UN operatives. Public trust in superheroes is at an all-time low. My approval ratings have practically fallen of the scale. We need to get a grip of this situation, Mr Stark. And quickly."

Tony lay uncharacteristically still, his mind buzzing.

"You need to reform the Avengers."

"Because that worked so well last time."

"We need them."

"Just like we needed Ultron." Tony flinched as he said the word.

All my friends, dead.

"I'm sorry Tony, but he's my friend."

"I've read the files, Mr Stark. I know all about Ultron."

"Then you know its not that simply. I left the Avengers to Rogers, who just most of them thrown in prison, and half of my team has either ditched me or been left crippled. The Avengers Initiative has dissolved."

"The let's make a new one. What do you need?"

Tony stared him straight in the eyes.

"Five pardons."

"I can give you four."

May 12th, 2016

It was a horrifyingly nice day.

When Tony first visited the Raft, he had arrived in the middle of a super storm.

It had felt appropriate for the occasion. Something somber and angry.

It had reflected his mood.

Now, there wasn't a cloud to be seen. The sun beamed out across the ocean, the light dancing as it bounced of the waves. The Raft rose out of the water, all ugly black steel, like a fist piercing through the tranquility of the sea.

But there was something beautiful about it.

A promise of safety.

Tony really hated this place.

As his helicopter descended down for Landing he saw General Ross clamber out of his hole, and he had never seen anyone look at him with such venom.

"STARK! WHAT THE HELL ARE YOU PLAYING AT? HOW, IN THE NAME OF GOD, DID YOU CONVINCE PRESIDENT WARREN THIS WAS A GOOD IDEA!"

"Good morning to you too, General! I slept great yesterday, thank you for asking. It's the medication they got me on. Puts me out like a baby. You should try some, it's good for the heart."

"I'll keep that in mind. Stark, if you think you're going to take my prisoners, Stark, you have another thing coming."

Tony put his shades on.

"You know; Warren seems like a fairly reasonable guy. Why did he put a nutcase like you in charge of the State department?"

Ross growled.

"I have extensive experience with using military and diplomatic force to deal with superhuman crises."

"Do you mean the way you dealt with the Hulk. Maybe we should ask the people of Harlem what they think of your 'experience'."

Ross grabbed Tony.

"Do not play with me Stark."

He pushed Tony forward, towards the floor.

Tony caught himself, and dusted off his custom Tom Ford suit.

"This not a game, Ross. If you know what's good for you, you'll stay out of my way from now."

With that, Tony spun around and clambered down into the raft, and headed straight for Prisoner Block 1.

"Well, look who's back." Clint Barton didn't even get up from his bed

"Clint. Ready to leave?"

The archer jumped to attention.

"What are you talking about, Stark?"

Tony pulls out three pieces of paper from his jacket pocket. He pulled of his sunglasses

"Sam Wilson. Clint Barton. Scott Lang."

Scott Lang perked at the mention of his name. Sam Wilson looked over curiously.

"I have three pardons, directly from the president, clearing all three of you off wrongdoing. You're all free men."

Sam blinked. "Seems I was wrong about you Stark."

Tony smirked. "Don't be mad, most people are."

Clint scowled.

"Why isn't there one for Wanda?"

Tony stiffened.

"Wanda is here at the leisure of the Sokovian government. The president has no official power to pardon her, and she was tried in absentia. She was charged with working with a known terrorist organisation, attempted Genocide, and several counts of manslaughter. It's unlikely that they will authorize her pardon. I have the Lawyers working on it, but it seems like a pretty open and shut case…"

"Go"

Wanda spoke for the first time in weeks, her voice weak. Tony paused, clearly perturbed by the interruption.

"Clint, do not stay for me. I will survive on my own. I always have. Go back to your family," she gave a weak smile. "Just don't forget me, alright?"

Clint nodded stoically, before turning around and wiping a tear out of his eye.

"I will come back for you." Clint looked her right in the eyes. She gave him a gentle look.

Tony coughed.

"Now that that's over, Gentlemen," Tony flipped over a panel over a keyboard, and punched in a code. The reinforced glass doors slid open, and the three man emerged from their cells. Scott's face was beginning to show a little beard, the only evidence of his weeks in captivity.

Tony passed each of them their pardons.

"These come with no strings attached. Your criminal records have been purged, your parole has been cleared," with this remark, he looked at Scott, "and your property will be returned upon exit. Clint, when we get to helipad, there will be a second helicopter waiting to take you back to your wife and kids, who had been driven mad with worry by the way, thanks for asking. As for you two," he swiftly turned to face Sam and Scott, as Clint's face crumbled, "I will offer you a choice: sign the Accords, and become part of the New Avengers Initiative. Act as part of a new, internationally supported, Law abiding team of heroes. Or retire, like Clint."

At this remark, Clint finally meet Tony's eye.

"I'm not retiring again. I already played my eighteen"

Tony rolled his eyes.

"Clint. You have a family to look after. Your kids need a father, not a superhero."

Clint growled, and stepped forward, right into Tony's face.

"I've been working that balance for years, Stark. I can't quit now. The world is more fragile than it's ever been. Someone needs to keep an eye on you morons."

"Clint, you retired of your own free will, just a year ago…"

"Yeah. Back when Cap was in charge. I have no faith in your leadership."

Tony put his sunglasses back on.

"Well, thank you for your show of support. I definitely don't want you on my team now."

Clint's hackles rose.

"You'll regret that, Stark."

"Well, I'm sure your wife won't. And, in six months' time, when you're sitting around your fireplace, drink in hand, with your little rug rats bouncing around the place, you won't either. Your helicopter's waiting upstairs."

Clint shoved past Tony, his teeth gritted.

"Well, that was awkward. Would someone like to fill me in on that relationship." Scott appeared bemused.

Tony shuddered.

"Maybe later. That is, if you sign."

Sam shook his head,

"I was against these Accords from the very beginning. My stance hasn't changed since. We shouldn't surrender so much control to other interests."

"Look, Sam, this isn't the done deal. Once we've signed them, and given the world its security back, we amend them later."

"Later isn't good enough. Tony, I wish you the best of luck, but, I want to get back to my old life, from before all this craziness. I want to go home."

Tony frowned.

"Okay. You can get in the helicopter with Clint. Tell the computer where you want to be dropped off. How about you?" and with this he pivoted to Scott.

"Are you up for it? Protecting the world? We could use a guy like on our side. You do good work in San Francisco, I read your file. Well, after I made it."

Scott looked apprehensive.

"Mr Stark, I would love too. But I haven't seen my family in weeks, and I don't think I'm ready to make a decision right now. I have to go home first."

Tony smiled.

"Sure. We can share a ride."

The view from the Raft was exquisite. That was the only positive thing Scott could think to say about the place. Sue, its food was shit, and its staff worse, but when you got to the top,with the view of the Sun over the ocean... Scott didn't think anything could beat that. Scott turned around gazed gazed at the assorted group of characters on the roof. They stood separate, Sam and Clint by a sleek, black helicopter, Tony fiddling with one that looked like something out of Star Trek. Clint noticed Scott, and gestured for Scott to come to him.

"Scott, keep an eye on him. Without supervision Tony can get..." Clint gestures to his head, and rotated his fingers.

"Sure, I mean, If I agree. Not saying I will, but if I do, I will definitely do that." Scott nodded. Clint just gazed at him for a moment, before stepping into the helicopter.

"Take care of yourself, tiny man. The world might need you someday, Avenger or no." Sam patted Scott on the back.

"Right back at you. Same for you, Mr Barton. You know, of all the prison friends I've made in my time, you two are like the third and fourth best."

Sam blinked slowly, before breaking into a smile.

"I will accept that as a compliment. Goodbye, Scott Lang."

"See you later, Sam."

The two nodded at each, and Sam hopped onto the helicopter, where Clint sat, phone held tight to his ear, crying with joy.

Scott gazed up at them as they flew away, leaving the superhero life behind for joys of home.

"Maybe they're the smart guys."

"I'm going to assume that's some in-joke that I am never going to get. Alright, where are we heading?"

"Um, Stark Tower, San Francisco is fine. I can make my way home from there."

"Alright. Hop in, Hagrid."

Scott clambered into the helicopter, gasping for a moment. Tony shot him a look.

"Yes, it is very cool. If you joined the Avengers, you could play with toys like these, every day."

Scott snorted.

"Nice try, Mr Stark."

Tony shrugged.

"Worth a try."

The two men burst out laughing.

Scott wiped a tear out of his eye.

"That wasn't that funny."

"After the past few weeks, we could all use a laugh. When you get back, what have you got waiting for you?"

"Oh, a shitty apartment, some good friends, an ex-wife, a new girlfriend, my wife's new police officer husband slash new friend, my daughter, Cassie. She's almost six. It's her birthday in a few months. She loved the Avengers. She had the whole set, but her Iron man figure was her favourite, cause it had been melted just a little bit, made all grotesque. She loves that sort of stuff."

Tony froze, his mind racing with possibilities. Finally, he turned to face Scott.

"Listen, Lang. I'm gonna make my pitch again. Sign the Accords. Join the Avengers. Become one of your daughter's heroes, maybe she'll even have you as an action figure. We can protect the world, your daughter's world."

Scott paused, musing.

"That was very manipulative of you. Effective, but manipulative."

Tony shrugged.

"I am very desperate. But I would prefer the term persuasion, not manipulation."

Scott smiled.

"I would have to see these Accords first. For all this talk, I have no idea what is in the bloody things."

Tony frowned,

"Well that is a mistake we must rectify. Fry, get Mr Lang a copy of the Accords."

"Yes, boss."

A small tablet slid out of the front seat. It landed in Scott's hands, and lit up, with the words:

The Sokovia Accords

Scot began to flick through the document, his eyes widening on occasion, frowning at other, and at points, nodding his head. When he was done, just before they reached San Francisco, he placed it on the seat next to him.

"You are a quick study, aren't you, Jiminy Cricket?" Tony said.

"Always have been. As for these Accords, I think they're sound, but they'll need some work." Scott still studied the pad.

"That was always the plan. The work isn't quite done but we're getting there."

Scott looked thoughtful. "I'll sign them, Mr Stark. You've got yourself a new Avenger. Now I just have to convince Hank Pym."

Tony waved way Scott's worries. "Let me deal with Hank. And please call me Tony."

Scott held out his hand, and Tony grasped it firmly.

"Welcome to the Avengers, Ant Man."

AN: To clarify, Alex Summers is Scott's father in this fic. This fic was started before XM:A when the only word on their new relation was from Matthew Vaughn, who said they were now Father and Son. I found that idea fascinating, and so kept it in anyway.

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